


Care to Dance?

by Anonymous



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Banter, Caring, Cunnilingus, F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Halamshiral (Dragon Age), Porn with Feelings, Smut, The Winter Palace (Dragon Age), Undressing, Varric Tethras' Chest Hair, Varric Won't Shut Up, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:27:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29295876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A smug chuckle announced Varric's presence on the balcony. Cassandra rolled her eyes and straightened up, turning to look at him over one shoulder. "What?""Just you," he answered with a shrug. "You can take down dragons without breaking a sweat, but a room full of silk draped Orlesians and you're hiding in the wings.""I am not hiding," she snapped, a touch too defensive.He chuckled again and came to stand beside her. "Sure you're not, Seeker. You only came out here so the garden could get a sample of your radiance. Understandable, there is enough of it to go around."Cassandra scoffed. "That line would sound better on paper.""You're right. I should write it down. Maybe I can work it into the next Swords and Shields chapter."-After the events of Halamshiral, Cassandra is worn out and in need of some TLC, which Varric is happy to provide, after he gives her a little grief.Written for Smutquisition 2021
Relationships: Cassandra Pentaghast/Varric Tethras
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7
Collections: Nobody Expects the Dragon Age Smutquisition





	Care to Dance?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [adoxyinherear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adoxyinherear/gifts).



Cassandra leaned heavily on the balustrade and let her shoulders relax for the first time that evening. She hated Orlesian politics, subterfuge, fancy parties, and she especially hated the gown Josephine had insisted she wear. The entire ball had been an exhausting venture in failing to keep up with Leliana, Josephine, and Lady Vivienne. They were so graceful and _comfortable_ in their attire, making small talk with masked idiots like they had been born for it. She on the other hand had spent every moment out of armor stiffly glaring away any attempts at conversation as she resisted pulling and scratching at her offensively impractical garment. She thanked the Maker Josephine had allowed her to wear sensible shoes.

The Empress safe and Corypheus's allies apprehended, there was now no need for Cassandra to remain among the bustling partygoers. She rubbed her hands over her face, arms prickling slightly in the cool night air, and anticipated the comfort of wool and a warm fire which awaited her in her private rooms.

A smug chuckle announced Varric's presence on the balcony. She should have known he'd be along at some point, it was the first time since arriving at Halamshiral that there was even the passing chance at privacy. Cassandra rolled her eyes and straightened up, turning to look at him over one shoulder. "What?"

He had dressed up well for the occasion, Josephine had even managed to get him into a shirt that covered his chest, and Cassandra could not in good conscience deny that he cut a striking figure in a suit, not that he was unappealing without it.

"Just you," he answered with a shrug. "You can take down dragons without breaking a sweat, but a room full of silk draped Orlesians and you're hiding in the wings."

"I am _not_ hiding," she snapped, a touch too defensive.

He chuckled again and came to stand beside her. "Sure you're not, Seeker. You only came out here so the garden could get a sample of your radiance. Understandable, there is enough of it to go around."

Cassandra scoffed. "That line would sound better on paper."

"You're right. I should write it down. Maybe I can work it into the next Swords and Shields chapter." He raised an eyebrow at her and she fought not to react. He had taken to teasing her mercilessly about her fascination with his trashy romance serials and she was determined not to give him the satisfaction.

"What are you doing here, Varric?" She crossed her arms, giving him her best withering stare. "Don't you have a gaggle of avid Orlesian fans to regale with falsehoods?"

"Maybe I wanted to soak up some of that radiance myself."

She scoffed again, even as she felt her cheeks warm to flushed pink. He was always like this, or at least had been since they'd begun… whatever it was you would call their relationship. It was a hesitant dance that had begun with flirting for flirting's sake and had developed into something Cassandra could not identify. "You are incorrigible."

He smiled, chest puffing up with pride. "It's part of my charm."

The worst part was that he was right.

"You do look really nice," he offered more seriously, leaning back on the balustrade. "Josephine chose a good color, brings out your eyes."

Cassandra bit the inside of her cheek and glanced down at the dusty, forest green dress she wore to cover another blush. She hadn't considered the effect such a color would have on her eyes. Josephine clearly had more than just her discomfort in mind when she selected the gown. "It's uncomfortable." She said grumpily. "And impractical."

He laughed at her. "The point of a gown isn't comfort or practicality, Princess. It's to look nice, to catch the eyes of strangers and make them say to themselves 'who is that gorgeous, _terrifying_ woman?'"

She smacked his shoulder with the back of her hand, which only provoked more laughter. "Why are you really out here?"

"I was going to ask you to dance," he said with a charming smile.

Cassandra's head recoiled slightly in surprise, and she examined him closely for signs that this was yet another joke at her expense. He seemed completely in earnest, however. "If that is so, then why all the flowery dialog?" She raised one eyebrow a fraction of an inch.

"If I had come out here and just asked you to dance, you would have told me to go to the Void and stomped off," he explained.

She had to concede that was an accurate assessment. "And what do you plan to do now?"

He stepped back from the railing and tucked one arm behind his back, holding out the other to her, the picture of gentile chivalry. "Care to dance?"

She considered telling him to go to the Void and stomping off. That would wipe the smug gleam from his eyes. But a flutter in her stomach made her falter. Music poured from the great balcony doors of the Winter Palace where the ball was still in full swing and the smell of wisteria from the garden was soft and delicate.

Cassandra took his hand.

She laid her other hand gently on his shoulder. "I'm afraid I'm an abysmal dancer," she volunteered apologetically.

Varric chuckled, his hand readjusting in hers as his other settled on her hip. "It's refreshing to find something you're _not_ good at. Your perfection can be daunting."

"And your flattery can be irritating." She tried to sound stern, but felt the softness in her tongue as she spoke.

Varric led and Cassandra did her best to follow his steps. He was a good lead: gentle pressure on her hand and waist directing her body like a weapons trainer would a recruit.

"I don't think they call it 'flattery' when it's the truth."

Cassandra's feet stumbled and her cheeks lit again, but Varric seemed to catch her, adapting to the misstep with a level of skill she would not have expected. "You're trying to put me off balance."

"Now why would I do that, Seeker?" He raised his brows innocently.

"The better question is why wouldn't you?" She smirked. "You're always pushing, always poking things to see how they react."

"Hey, I'm a writer. Everyone knows the plot doesn't move forward without a little help." His face settled into a soft smile. "But not this time, no. I just thought you'd like a little romance. You couldn't have picked a better setting, I must say."

Chewing the inside of her cheek, Cassandra studied his eyes and found nothing but sincerity within them, and her stomach turned a small summersault. She didn't know what to make of Varric's occasional moments of earnest affection. They were accented with his usual pithy manner and probing jabs, but at their heart was something with more depth, something she hesitated to put a label on lest it dissolve into nothing. There were moments when he poked and prodded at her until she wondered what had possessed her to invite him into her bed, then he went and did something like this and it reminded her. The man was a romantic, in the truest sense of the word, and it overrode her typical caution in a way that felt natural, like the inevitable rise of the tide.

"That's— that's very thoughtful of you." She at last responded. "It is quite romantic."

"I tried to talk the fireflies into spelling out your name over the fountain, but it turns out there aren't enough of them, possibly not enough in all of Thedas. How many names _do_ you have exactly?"

She glowered at him. "This is why I never brought it up."

The song came to an end and with it their dance. "For someone who claims to be a bad dancer, you seemed to do just fine."

Cassandra floundered for words. "Well— you were a very good lead." She managed.

"With you, I'll take any compliments I can get." Varric smirked and kissed the back of her hand.

"Seeker Pentaghast." The Inquisition soldier's voice shattered the moment so sharply it was nearly audible. Cassandra and Varric's hands dropped to their sides and they simultaneously stepped back from each other, so in sync it could have choreographed. The flush which had been running across Cassandra's cheeks vanished and her eyes, returned to their usual cold steel, flicked to the man. "What is it?" Her tone was business-like, but she hoped, no firmer than usual despite her irritation.

"Commander Cullen asked me to fetch you. He would like to discuss plans for the Inquisition's return to Skyhold." The man bowed stiffly. If he had noticed anything amiss regarding Varric and The Seeker's interaction he hid it well.

Cassandra gave a firm nod. "Of course."

"He probably just needs help fighting off his admirers. Last I saw him he was just a head of perfect blond curls drowning in a sea of velvet gowns." Varric crossed his arms and grinned, no hint in his voice or manner indicating their talk had been anything but the expected Inquisition related jabs.

"Either way, it sounds as if I must attend to the Commander. Varric." She nodded to him in farewell, giving him what she hoped was an appropriately apologetic glance, then followed the soldier back into the noise and rabble of the palace.

* * *

It was late, past midnight, and Cassandra was still wearing the blasted gown. Extracting Cullen from the horde of Orlesians surrounding him had proved more difficult than she had expected, and the discussion that had followed had gone on a few more glasses of wine than she would have liked. Plans for the Inquisition's evacuation from the Winter Palace were completed and she finally had a few moments to do as she pleased. So it was almost a surprise to Cassandra that she found herself not at the door to her own rooms, but those of Master Tethras.

She shouldn't have been surprised. While she and Cullen had poured over troop movements her mind had repeatedly flashed to Varric's charming smile and the feeling of his lips against the back of her bare hand. By the bottom of her second glass of wine she had decided, though not acknowledged, the fact that she wanted to see him again. They had few moments alone, and neither of them were confident enough in their hazy union to have it publicly confirmed. The early hours in a drunk, exhausted Orlesian palace was a blessing.

She rapped gently on the door. Cassandra knew he would be awake: back at Skyhold he was often awake much later, and a change in location would not alter his unique sleep patterns. Sure enough, after a light shuffling the door opened enough for his face to peer out into the hall and his eyes lit up.

"Come in," he said invitingly, pulling the door open wide enough for her to pass.

"Thank you." She brushed through the portal, silk of her gown brushing against the doorframe and his chest.

Varric closed the door behind her and turned on his heel. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He had gotten comfortable in the time since the ball's end. His shoes and jacket were gone and he had unbuttoned his shirt nearly to his navel, chest hair spilling out between crisp white linen. He may not have looked as refined as in the suit, but there was something about the slightly disheveled look which was just as, if not more, handsome.

"Care to dance?" She tried to sound as confident as he had, only half succeeding.

Varric grinned. "Here? Now?" She nodded and he laughed. "But there's no music."

Cassandra shrugged. "I'm sure a man of your apparent skill will rise to the challenge."

He conceded the point with a roll of his shoulders and held out one hand to her, which she took without hesitation. Instead of resting on her hip, as it had early on the balcony, Varric's arm wrapped around her and his hand found the small of her back, bringing their bodies close enough that it would have caused a scandal on the dance floor.

"You're very forward," She commented with a wry smile.

"You don't get to show up at my door at half one and claim _I'm_ the one being forward, Princess." He tightened his arm, removing all space between their bodies.

Cassandra chuckled, laying her arm around his shoulder. "I suppose that is fair."

Varric began to move, leading her around the suite in a silent waltz. It should have been awkward, their feet shuffling over the fine rugs in the eerie early morning silence, his clever eyes studying on her face, but somehow it wasn't. His hand around her waist, their feet moving in time to the beating of their hearts, and his unjudgmental scrutiny all felt comfortable.

"So, what are you doing here, Seeker?" He asked in a strange reversal of their earlier conversation.

"Commander Cullen and I finished the plans for the Inquisition's departure tomorrow, and don't worry, I made sure you were not included in the first light convoy." She gave him a droll smile.

He chuckled. "I appreciate that, but that's not what I meant."

Cassandra felt an unexpected flush rising up her cheeks. "I knew you would be awake."

"You're avoiding the question." Varric's hand slid down a fraction of an inch. "What should I take from that?"

"You should take nothing from it." Her flush deepened to crimson.

His hand slid further. "You're still wearing your dress. I would have thought your first priority once you finished with the Commander would be changing into something comfortable and practical."

"What do you want me to say, Varric? That I wanted to see you?" Cassandra snapped gently.

"Yes." Varric beamed at her.

She stopped dancing, a pleasantly surprised smile curling her lips, and let out a scoff that sounded like a laugh. "I'm here because I wanted to see you." She moved her hands to cup her palms around his face and kissed him. 

Varric was a very good kisser. The hand that had found its way to her ass gave a gentle squeeze as the other curled around the back of her neck. His tongue rolled along her bottom lip and Cassandra parted them, a soft sigh escaping her lungs as he gently, almost hesitantly, deepened the kiss.

"Now," Cassandra pulled back just enough to look him in the eye. "Help me get this blasted gown off."

"You could have led with that," he teased, prompting her to roll her eyes at him.

She straightened up and turned her back to him. "There are buttons, I think, or laces, I'm not sure."

Varric chuckled, his fingers sliding up and down the silk on either side of her spine. "Were you unconscious while they trussed you up? That would explain how Josephine managed to get you in this getup."

"I was discussing the event with Leliana. Deciding scout assignments and soldier muster positions. It kept me occupied." She crossed her arms over her chest.

He seemed to have figured out the appropriate method of release as his hands went to work on what felt like buttons, with far more lingering caresses than she suspected was necessary. "You do tend to have single-minded focus when it comes to things like that."

Cassandra felt the bodice loosen from her sides as Varric worked dexterously down her back. His touch was warm and fleeting, the sensation making her skin tingle and warmth grow low in her body. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, enjoying the sensation.

"Did they put you in a corset?" Varric asked disbelievingly as the back of the dress fell open.

She groaned. "Josephine insisted it was necessary. I reminded her it was also necessary for me to be able to breathe, but as you can see it did not dissuade her."

Varric laughed and ran his palm down her spine, sending shivers through her. "You should be good to shimmy out of this thing now." He said, giving her back a pat.

Cassandra didn't so much shimmy as flee, releasing the front of the gown so it crumpled to the floor around her in a puddle. She stepped out of the circle of skirts and kicked the dress to the side of the room. "Thank the Maker. I cannot believe I let Josephine bully me into such ridiculousness."

"I thought it looked great on you," Varric offered, a gleam in his eye. "Although this is a good look too."

She shot him a glare that was colored by amusement, kicking off her low boots. "Are you going to help me out of this monstrosity or do you intend to lasciviously stare at me until I pass out?" Her voice was stern, but Cassandra would have been lying if she claimed his attention was not appreciated. Cassandra was a warrior and a Seeker, defined by her occupation, and rarely felt beautiful or sensual, but Varric made her feel she was a woman first.

"I would have used the word _admiringly_ , myself." He grinned and she scoffed. "Sit down and I will. You've been on your feet all day." He gestured to the bed.

Cassandra raised an eyebrow at the implied proposition and Varric raised his hands in an unarmed gesture. "Do you want the corset off or not?"

"Very well," Cassandra sighed. She did want liberation from the pinching, constricting torture device, so she perched herself on the edge of the bed, saying nothing as the mattress shifted below her and Varric's hands found the laces at her midback. His fingers moved agonizingly slowly, pulling the tie loose and beginning to loosen the restricting garment.

"Is this process normally so intensive?" She asked, a coy smirk evident in her voice.

"Between the two of us I have more experience in these matters," Varric teased, unthreading down her back. "So why don't you relax and let me handle it?"

She gave a short chuckle from low in her throat and closed her eyes as one of his hands drifted away from its task to run up the back of her neck, fingertips brushing her hair as they kneaded the tight muscles at the base of her skull. Varric tossed aside the bottom lace, then walked his fingers up her spine to work on the other. His lips against her neck surprised her and she inhaled sharply, then leaned into the touch. He kissed down her neck as the cotton and bone garment gave way, and he tossed it to the ground with one hand as the other slid around her ribs to replace it, cupping her breast.

Cassandra arched her back, purring as she reached up with one hand, fingers lacing in his hair. His tongue tasted her skin and he gently pinched her nipple, his other hand tracing along old scars on her side. She reclined against his chest, humming pleasurably as his kisses traced back up her neck, and turned her head to catch his lips with hers. There was no hesitance in the probing caress of his tongue against hers this time, and she returned his enthusiasm.

"Comfortable now?" He asked, lips brushing against hers.

"I am," she responded breathlessly. "Although the practicality still leaves something to be desired."

"Oh, I don't know about that. I think it's very practical," his fingers danced over her stomach to brush the edge of her cotton small clothes. "Excepting some extraneous accessories."

Cassandra scoffed, then gasped as his fingers moved under the cloth and slid between her folds. His lips caught hers again, catching her unsteady breaths as he began to stroke gently at her clit. She tightened her grip on him, forcing the kiss deeper, her other hand restlessly dancing over his arm. She wanted to touch him, to run her fingers through his chest hair and feel the taut muscles of his stomach. With him behind her she couldn't do anything, and a groan of frustration forced its way up her throat.

Perhaps misinterpreting her vocalization, Varric removed his hand from between her legs. Cassandra seized on the opportunity, planting one foot on the floor to pivot and bring her other knee up onto the bed beside him. She kissed him with renewed vigor, hands scrabbling for the remaining buttons of his shirt and chest pressed firmly into his. He made a small sound of surprise, then chuckled low in his throat, a sound Cassandra felt through his lips.

She would have expected a sardonic comment from him in response to her ardor, he was usually full of them. He always prodded at the situation which seemed beyond the realm of reality, constantly giving her reminders of her lunacy and offering ways out; this time, however, he was silent apart from pleasurable murmurs as she ran her calloused hands over the skin of his chest. This is what she had wanted, Cassandra acknowledged. All night, as she had stumbled through events she was foreign to, playing her part as the stoic protector of the faith, she had been longing for this drop of pretense. A release, it seemed, Varric had been equally eager for.

One of his hands curled around the back of her neck, fingers becoming lost in her dark hair, as the other slid between her legs again, fingers picking up where they had left off, pulling a gasp from her lips. Varric kissed down her neck to her shoulder, dexterous fingers working soft moans out of her lungs.

Cassandra bit her lip and ran her hands down his chest to the fastenings of Varric's trousers, but he abruptly ceased his machinations to brush her hands away. "Oh no, you've been working too hard as it is." Before she could object he silenced her with a kiss, gently guiding her to her back. "Don't argue with me, Seeker. Not tonight."

She opened her mouth to argue anyway, but was once again stymied by the press of his lips before his kisses descended over her throat and collar bone.

"Varric, I am not a delicate thing in need of—"

"You don't need to prove to me what a strong independent woman you are, I know.” He gave her a stern look. "Just let me take care of you, Cass."

Cassandra blinked at him. Varric never used her name. She nodded slowly, relaxing back into the mattress.

He grinned. "Thank you." His mouth returned to her chest, kissing down the valley between her breasts, then catching one nipple in his hot mouth as he rolled the other between his finger and thumb. Cassandra's breath caught in her throat and she bit her lip again, suppressing a mewling moan as the muscles of her stomach contracted. Varric rolled his eyes up to her face as he took more of her breast into his mouth. Heat seemed to radiate from his tawny irises, hotter even than his mouth on her sensitive flesh or the fever growing between her legs. A shudder rolled up her back, arching her neck and closing her eyes, so she felt rather than saw him continue his oral journey down over her tight abdominals, past her belly button to the sensitive flesh just above where her small clothes lay.

She was afraid to look down at him, afraid the sight of his passionate eyes between her legs would undo her. His fingers caressed the cotton where it lay over her sharp hip bones, but made no move to peel the cloth away. He wanted her undone, wanted her eyes on him as he worked, performer that he was. Her eyes met his and another shudder passed through her as he hooked his thumbs into her small clothes and rolled them down her hips to leave her bare. He would have slowly taken them all the way down her legs, but Cassandra's impatience had her kicking them off her shins before he had the chance. He smirked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"We do have things to do in the morning you kn—"

Her voice was cut off by a shuddering moan as Varric's hand slid between her legs, the pad of his thumb applying firm pressure to her clit and moving in small circles as he nudged her thighs apart. One finger probed deeper, slipping inside of her with no resistance. The wetness of her want easily allowed one, then two fingers to slide inside of her as his thumb continued its ravishing movement. Cassandra gasped, legs quivering as she watched Varric lower himself between her legs. 

His tongue stole the place of his thumb, lapping at her core with long, languid strokes. His fingers plunged into her again and again, seemingly deeper each time, pouring waves of pleasure to wash throughout her body with every thrust. Cassandra felt her eyes roll back as she cried out, shuddering gasping moans underlined by her white-knuckled grip on the bedspread beneath her. She attempted to cry his name as she felt herself slipping towards the precipice of her release, but his lips tightened around her, sucking at her core, and it turned her voice to garbled, incoherent sounds as she plummeted over the edge. The world went white and it was like her every nerve was set alight with pleasure, muscles contracting and releasing beyond her control as her orgasm overtook her. 

For a moment, Cassandra could do nothing but swallow down air as she waited for the aftershocks and lightheadedness to pass. Varric lay his head on her hip, looking up at her face with a self-satisfied smile curling his lips. "See? Was that so hard?"

She groaned, at both his glibness and the fact that he was right, and rose up to her elbows. "You can't just let moments stand on their own, can you? Always with the clever quips."

Varric sat back on his heels and shrugged flippantly. "I think it's a birth defect." He climbed off the bed, making Cassandra sit up in confusion, and retrieved her discarded dress from the floor before returning to her side. "You should be getting to your own bed, Seeker. Big day tomorrow." He held out the fabric for her to take.

Cassandra looked at the gown, back at him, and scoffed. "I don't know which is more offensive: that you think that was all I came for, or that you think that I am done." Instead of the gown she grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him to her, kissing him fiercely and drawing him back into the bed. He let her push him to his back on the soft coverlet, and this time, made no move to stop her as she undid the buttons of his shirt and worked down to those of his trousers. His tongue was thankfully occupied rolling against hers and could not be used for any smart comments.

Varric's cock came free of the cloth easily, and she wrapped her palm around it, enjoying the suppressed gasp of pleasure her grip wrung from his throat. Varric managed to get his shirt off, his bare arms toned from years of carrying his massive crossbow, and Cassandra was momentarily distracted from her desires by the sight of them. Then he chuckled, watching her expression from propped elbows. She pushed him back down with her free hand, the other sliding up and down his length, shuddering slightly at the velvety feeling of his sensitive skin, and the anticipation of how it would feel inside her. 

"You going to do anything with that?" Varric sounded more breathless than usual, but no less smug.

"Do you _want_ me to leave, Varric?" Cassandra asked in exasperation, throwing up her hands.

"No." He laid a hand on her hip, catching one of her hands with the other. "I don't. I want you to stay." There was no joking in his tone, no mocking raise of an eyebrow or prideful smirk. Cassandra's expression softened again and she leaned over him, cupping his face with her free hand and kissing him. She threw one knee over his hips and slowly, as sweet lips gave way to arduous tongues, lowered herself over his length. She gasped, hand tightening its grip on his, and he moaned into her mouth as she took more and more of him into her until their hips met. Cassandra let her hand caress down from his face to his chest, a short cry of pleasure escaping her as she sat back and the angle of his cock adjusted inside her. She ran her fingers through the golden hair on his chest, simultaneously soft and coarse, much like the man himself. She enjoyed, for a moment, his enraptured, _silent_ expression, then she rose up on her knees. She felt every inch of him as she pulled up, and bit her lip against the whining moans she felt crawling up her throat. With only his tip pressed inside her, Cassandra rolled her hips, watching as Varric's eyelids fluttered and feeling the hand on her hip tighten.

"You enjoy torturing me," he grunted.

"It seems only fair considering what I put up with from you." Cassandra made no effort to suppress her wicked smile. Being in control was what she did best, and controlling Varric was a gargantuan task, she may as well enjoy it. "Besides, it seems to me you enjoy being tortured."

"Only by you," he confirmed through gritted teeth. He pulled down on her hip and she obliged him, their hips coming together again, but this time Cass didn't stop. Moans poured from her lips as she rode him, mixing with his deeper groans of pleasure. She braced her hands on his shoulders, moving faster, and he held her hips, thrusting up to meet her body and sending shocks of pleasure up her spine. Cassandra's thighs strained in protest, but she ignored the discomfort, feeling the building reservoir of sensation pool inside her like a waterskin filling to near bursting.

Varric thrust into her hard and she shrieked, the straining seams of her control bursting. The rhythm of her movement was knocked off balance by her release, but Varric's hands tightened on her hips to hold her steady and continued to plow into her as she rode the rush of sensation like a ship battered by a furious storm. Her heart thundered against her chest, body convulsing, lungs heaving for breath as the onslaught continued. Then she felt him spill inside her, and she collapsed onto his chest, the hot flood within her sending echoes of pleasure through her muscles, making her twitch and gasp.

He was so warm. Cassandra slid her body off his softening cock, the movement sending another shiver through her, and nuzzled her face into his chest, one leg hooked possessively around his thigh. An arm wrapped around her back, pulling her in closer to him, and a masculine, contented sigh came from somewhere above her head.

"Have I ever told you that you are incredible in bed?" He asked absently, fingers dancing over the skin of her back.

"Only every time we've made love," she retorted, a smile in her voice.

"Well, every time it's been true, and worth pointing out."

Cass lifted her head to look at him, and laid a single finger against his lips. "Just stop talking. I intend to enjoy this afterglow."

He chuckled, stroking her back and closing his eyes. He breathed deeply and Cassandra put her head against his chest again, the deep booming of his heart beginning to lull her to sleep.

"I don't envy you sneaking out of here before first light."

Cassandra rolled her eyes. Varric would die before he stopped talking it seemed. "I have no intention of doing so. Commander Cullen is handling the first light convoy. I'll be handling the secondary group. I have to keep an eye on you after all."

This seemed to give Varric pause, his breath hitching in his chest momentarily, then he took her hand and pressed its back to his lips. They were so soft, and Cassandra felt something in her chest wobble at the tender gesture. "I'm honored to have you overnight," he said candidly. "Listening to you fall asleep is among the singular pleasures in this world."

She yawned, wiggling her shoulders into a more comfortable position beside him. "What are the others?" 

"I'd show you, but I'm a little out of steam currently. Give me ten minutes and a handjob—"

"Varric," she cut him off, his name sounding like a threat on her tongue.

"Or we could just go to sleep. I'll show you another time."

Cass nodded, the move stumbled with exhaustion. "Another time," she repeated. "I needed this. I need this."

"I'm glad I could help." He squeezed her shoulder and relaxed into the bed with a sigh, then looked down at her as a thought occurred to him. "Wait, Seeker, did you just say you need me?"

Cassandra, however, was already asleep.


End file.
